Overlord
by Mtcoin
Summary: A new dark force is rising. But the question is can the heroes handle it? Or will they get swept up in an endless tide of darkness? After all... Evil Always Finds A Way.


Chaos. Chaos spread all around Aizawa.

People ran screaming, tripping, and trampling each other in an attempt to escape from a horde of creatures that were at fault for causing so much damage.

Blackened blood ran through the streets, dying them red in the blood of the fallen.

But even now Aizawa fought on wrapping his scarf around a group of three of the monsters yanking them closer to him before a blade found their throats, courtesy of Yoroi Musha.

The older hero pulled the blade of his Katana back when the brown-skinned creature finally fell lifeless on the ground.

Above its head floated a light brown collared shadow.

It was a sight the two heroes we're used to by now, after all, they had witnessed it plenty of times.

They were exhausted, hours of combat between wave after wave of these creatures had left them out of breath.

What's worse was that they were increasing in number, every minute that they remained here more and more came.

Where they were coming from, he didn't know, and at this point, he didn't care.

His scarf shot out once more wrapping around a child that was mere seconds away from being crushed under rubble.

All the while, Yoroi Musha and the other heroes in the area tried to stem the next wave.

Flames scorched the area in front of them as Endeavor finally arrived at the scene, and for a moment the heroes breathed easy.

Until the creature started to absorb the flames, these ones were new, a deep cherry red instead of the light brown of the previous monsters.

And when a virtual wall of fire was sent flinging towards them, the heroes were forced to take cover.

Endeavor's growl of frustration was cut off by what came next.

They watched as a slightly taller version of the monsters ran forward, these ones blue in color and looking more aquatic than their brothers.

But when they started picking up the fallen monsters the pure hopelessness of the heroes situation set in.

Especial once the previously dead creatures started to rise from the ground, once more charging towards the heroes, brand new ferocity burned in their eyes.

Great first a bunch of bastards who refused to stay down, then came ones that could lob literal balls of fire, now they had monsters that could revive the dead?

What next? Monsters that could turn invisible?

The sudden pain in his side told him he spoke too soon.

Looking down he saw the cause, a creature slightly shorter than the other with a dark forest green skin. On his hand were three long blades that hung from a piece of leather.

Blades that were currently five inches deep in his exposed sides.

With a shove he forced the creature off of him, watching as it clattered to the ground, before turning invisible.

'Dammit, how can this day get any worse?'

The sudden lack of movement from the monsters answered his question.

And then in a frenzy, they started chanting. Cries of "Master!" and "It's the Overlord!" filling the air.

He watched as the Brown creatures slammed their weapons into the ground, war cries, and screams, filling the air.

The Reds followed, fireballs launched into the air exploding like fireworks.

The sound of claws scraping against the buildings around him sent him spirling, as well over a hundred of the Green's uncloaked.

The Blues let out cheers dropping to their knees in front of the new arrival, laying the bodies of the fallen minions at his feet.

And with the wave of a massive armored hand, the dead raised once more.

The heroes watched as an armored figure appeared over the makeshift barricade of cars they had been using, the vehicles crushing under the weight of his footfalls.

With a wave of his hand, the monsters formed ranks, the previously chaotic bands of creatures, turning into an organized army.

The Browns now stood in front, makeshift weapons and shields held in front of them like a wall of iron.

The Greens now covered the flanks turning invisible to ambush any hero that strayed too far from the group.

Reds stood behind the browns, fireballs resting in their hand waiting to be launched.

And the blues stood even behind them, tending to what few wounded remained.

But it was what stood behind the monsters that genuinely terrified him.

Heroes.

Or at least previous heroes.

He had heard of their disappearance of their "deaths." Of their defeats.

But to see what became of those unfortunate to be captured by him, that was a completely different story.

He had little time to ponder this though, as the armored figure raised a hand, bringing it down in a signal to charge.

Cries of "For the Overlord!" came from both the minions and former heroes alike.

And with a thunderous charge, the battle continued once more.

* * *

Midroya was sixteen when his dreams of being a hero finally shattered.

Years of abuse leaving cracks along the surface, finally broke with the symbol of peace.

"You can't be a hero."

A lie.

"It's too dangerous."

An excuse.

"Someone as useless as you could never be a hero!"

An insult.

"Get it through your thick skull, before I blow it the fuck off!"

A threat.

All things he had heard before, all things he would hear again.

He was used to the disappointment that came with each time he heard it; he was used to the fear that accompanied it.

What he wasn't used to was the rage.

Anger at the world, at the number one hero, at the very Gods who felt the need to test him every day of his life.

But even that paled in comparison to the self-hatred, he felt within his very bones.

Rage strong enough that when he looked over the side of the building, all he could do was scream.

Scream bloody murder at the world, at the Gods, at heroes and villains and civilians alike, at quirks, at the very society he lived in.

He screamed until his voice went hoarse until the people below looked up in fear that this may be another villain attack.

Until the heroes kicked open the door to the roof, surprise evident on their face when all this so-called villain was, was a child.

And then he let himself fall, leaning back until he was over the edge of the building.

The look on the heroes face, he would remember it.

When he hit the pavement below, he didn't even register the screams.

He didn't register anything.

Not the way his lungs slowly but surely began to collapse, drowning himself in his own blood, not when he felt the shards of his ribcage came closer and closer to his heart.

Nothing remained.

Nothing but rage.

* * *

"This one! This one!"

"Oooh, Nice!"

What was that?

"Master, Master!"

Who was speaking?

He barely registered the faint light the peaked through a crack above his head.

'Where am I?'

"Hurry get the lid off of him; it'll do us no good to have a traped Master."

The voices hurt.

He could hear stone scraping against stone as the light expanded in front of him.

His eyes closed, trying to block out the light.

He just wanted to sleep.

This was all just a dream, yeah just a dream.

But when tough leathery hands hauled him out of his stone coffin, his desire to sleep escaped him.

His eyes snapped open, staring into the face of a creature, it was tiny, a little under three feet tall, with tough brown skin.

He might have laughed at the absurdity of the creature. It almost didn't seem real, like he was staring at a monster out of a fairytale.

But the glowing yellow eyes that stared into his soul was a horrifying reality.

"Master?! Master!"

Was it talking to him? Why was it talking to him? He didn't even know who they were.

"Calm down, Gibblit! You're scaring the Master!" A loud crack followed those words, as a heavy staff was brought down on the creatures head.

He watched as the creature whimpered, clutching his head in pain.

And for the merest moment the absurdity of the situation, caused him to laugh, drawing the attention of the creatures in front of him.

They were cute, in a weird way.

His laughter drew the attention of the creature, and for a moment, he feared he did something wrong.

Until the creatures howled in laughter along with him.

For the first time in forever, he felt at peace, a wired sensation considering the events of that day.

But then the rage returned.

His smile vanished, replaced by a growling snarl.

One hand reached out, grasping one of the creatures by the head, and with but a squeeze, it popped like a grape.

Yet this only made them laugh harder, some falling to the floor and slamming their fists.

The rage subsided with the creatures death if only a little.

With a swing of his hand, another painted the walls in its blood.

Yet the laughter continued.

Deep howling laughter that felt almost like a mockery of what had happened.

His fist came down, another of the creatures turning into a bloodstain on the floor.

His mind was too clouded in rage to realize his new-found strength.

A roar of laughter followed, as seemingly more and more of these creatures came from the very ground itself as if they wanted to challenge him to kill them faster than they appeared.

With a great bellow of rage, he accepted that challenge.

He dove into the hoard, swing, kicking biting, clawing, punching, tearing his way through them like they were but tissue paper.

And only after his lust for death was quelled, did he finally find himself calming down.

And then the grim reality of what he had just done set in.

He looked at his hands, stained red and black with the blood of the creatures he had just killed.

But still, the laughter remained, the creatures bellowing laughter at their fallen, some pointing, others clutching their stomachs as if it was a challenge to continue.

Why? Why were they laughing? To mock him? To torture him with what he had done?

And then their laughter was replaced with another.

This one rough, jagged, and explosive.

It was Bakugo's laughter.

That same mocking laugh that he had heard for years upon years. Tortures in its simplicity, anguishing in its profound depraved way.

It was the laugh that had brought him so much pain, so much anguish. So. Much. Hate!

"ENOUGH!"

With a roar a massive column of flames shot from his hands, making contact with the creatures.

Their tortured cries mixed with the laughter, creating a maddening noise that clawed at the edges of his mind driving him deeper into insanity.

Another swing of his hand brought lightning, driving the creatures to their knees, as cries of pain flooded the room.

And for a moment Bakugo's laughter subsided.

'More pain. More Pain! I need to hurt them more!'

Another wave sent them into a murderous frenzy, ripping each other limb from limb, something Midoriya ended up joining, charging into the fray as he tore his way through monster after monster.

And the laughter became quieter once more.

He didn't notice when the effect ended, or when a few blue creatures came in to collect the bodies, dragging them away to be revived.

He didn't notice when the laughter stopped.

He didn't notice them strapping metal onto his skin, some simply choosing to melt the massive pieces of steel onto his arms.

He didn't notice the final piece, a large gauntlet with a minion crest in the center.

All he noticed was the rage.

Rage and the need to slaughter more, to conquer, to torture, to kill.

"Well, I think you'll make a fine Overlord. All you needed was a hint of insanity... Oh! And one more important thing. Giblet! Rub some acid in his eyes! That'll freshen him up!"

He hardly registered the acid poured into his helmet, melting the flesh the lay underneath into an unrecognizable mass of skin and meat.

"Ah, there we go! Now then Master comes along, there's evil to be done!"

He didn't know why he followed those order, strolling behind the oldest minion as he approached a massive obsidian throne.

His hands reached out, rubbing along the finely decorated material, feeling each and every bump and curve until he reached the end.

He didn't know what possed him to sit in the chair, or what possed him to take up the bottle of mysterious liquid that was offered to him and a black platter.

"Now then Master, take up your weapon! Lead your armies! Sew chaos and despair the like of which this world has never seen! Begin your march! Conquer the lands! Slay your enemies! Become a man worthy of bearing the title of Overlord!"

He stood, marching over to a pool of water and staring deep into its watery depths, and what appeared in front of him was a deep forest rich with wildlife. A perfect place to start his slaughter, to gain life force! To conquer!

When he stepped in the creatures that remained watched as he disappeared.

"You know Giblet? I have a good feeling about this one. I think he might be the Overlord we have always been looking for."

A nod from the brown-skinned creature beside him let him know of his agreement.

"Well not that there anything to worry about if he's not..."

"After all, Evil Always Finds A Way."


End file.
